Logan shut his cabin's door behind him and leaned against it, trying to catch his breath back in the process.
His demented groupies had finally being caught back in that great chase that had begun, the moment they bumped on a bypassing group of nuns that had popped up from a corridor crossing their way.
That fortunate surprise had allowed Wolverine to get far enough from them in order to get back to his room without being followed there.
With his breathing finally returning back to normal, Logan had the chance to look around his own cabin...not much had happened in there since the moment he had exited in, accompanied by an excited Jubilee, both of them very eager to destroy a blossoming love affair between Popsicle and that green-haired trump.
"Those were the good days", he thought to himself.
Too bad that those good days had passed just the previous day.
Logan began to unbuckle his belt, finally ensured that all the groupies were far from him and unaware of his cabin's whereabouts. But right then, a sensual voice tragically proved him wrong;
"Do you want me to help you out of these trousers?" Logan's enhanced hearing system ensured him that the voice belonged to Kate, the woman who probably started the whole groupie thing.
And there she was, lying on Wolverine's double bed, only clad in a set of purple underwear, complete with long silk stockings and all. Her pimple-infested thighs were spread on Logan's beloved mattress, as Kate stroked her feet provokingly.
All of Logan's blood surged into his skull at that horrifying sight.
Kate squirmed happily as she saw Wolverine glaring at her. She thought she had impressed him. And she had. But not the way she wanted to...
"Ho did you get here?" Logan asked in exasperation. Trying to get away from her again would prove pointless.
"Oh, come on, when a potent girl wants to get somewhere really bad, she eventually makes it. My friends from W.O.L.F. were the perfect distraction for me to bribe the receptionist and find out what the number of your room was, as you were running around the boat trying to get away from your own fans. But no need to feel guilty now, you can make up to that by satisfying your greatest fan EVER. Me."
Logan didn't need to rethink of that. The answer he gave to that question wasn't vocal, but it still helped him to make his point...
Snickt!
He began getting closer and closer to the icky woman lying on his own bed, perishing the thought that he was about to touch her in order to get rid of her...
"Uh oh..." Kate muttered between her clenching teeth. This time she had gone way too further than what she could handle...
Jack was currently speaking on his cell phone, using a language of currently unknown identity. He seemed to be talking to his boss, and the repetitive uses of a certain brief word combined with many nods of his side were inclining to that conclusion.
He soon hang the phone up, mumbling to himself about his stupid boss and how eager he was to go incognito in stupid masque parties when he was supposed to stick to the plan and take part in their mission for tonight.
Jack made sure that Jubilee would be harmless enough in her constrictive bonds as soon as she would wake up. He also checked his hi-tech watch to make sure that his Seductress 3000 (the one that looks like Pamela Anderson, remember?) was on her way to where he had sent her to.
"Splendid. Everything is going well, although we were taken aback by the unexpected tricks from Miss "I'm-cool-enough-to-date-a-bisexual" over there", he said mischievously to nobody in particular as he pointed at Jubilee's asleep form.
He then remembered what those "tricks" had cost him. Trying to contain himself from crying, he walked over to the ripped-apart and stomped-on remains of his beloved Playgirls, currently lying in the middle of the cabin's floor.
He traced around in the heap of ripped paper on the floor, trying to find any piece of paper that wasn't smaller than an inch at girth.
Nothing.
His head turned over towards the open closet, where the rest of the Playgirls had met their untimely death.
He slowly walked to the closet, fearful of what he would see once he got there. The sight was horrendous. The once glorious stash of Playgirls had resulted in a small heap of ashes.
Hope suddenly gleamed into his eyes as he remembered something. Pushing away the heap of Playgirl ashes, Jack eventually found the loose piece of wood in the floor under the ashes.
That was where he had hidden his favourite issue.
Taking the wooden plank out of the way, Jack revealed the secret opening where the Playgirl issue from April 1973 was resting.
The headlines on the cover were screaming: "Canuck Power: Why Canadians do it better"
James Logan, clad in nothing but a skimpy pair of red pants and a lumberjack hat was smirking to him playfully from the cover, as he held on a massive, edgy, tree-killing axe.
"Yeah, I knew you would make it", Jack said in a father-like voice to the magazine and tucked it in his jacket's large side-pocket protectively.
Logan had a last look at the huge hole on the wall of his cabin. It was fortunate that his cabin wasn't in an underwater level, or else the whole ship would be flooding with water right now...
He had ripped that big hole himself, using his lethal adamantium claws.
Kate, the utterly ugly chick that was chasing him around and had summoned that pack of W.O.L.F. groupies after him, had been thrown out of that hole, into the sea. Logan had been way too angered by that woman and couldn't help himself from doing what he did.
He then considered whether he should set his mattress on fire or not. After all, Kate had tainted it by laying her ugly form on it, so it had to go as well.
"What the hell" he had thought, "I already have a gaping hole on my cabin's wall, why not use it to get rid of another thing as well." So he also threw the mattress out of the hole, letting it join Kate in the ocean.
So now Kate was sailing in the endless waters, holding herself on the mattress to prevent herself from drowning. Logan had thought about the possible dangers caused by sharks and other sea critters towards Kate, but he had a small conference with himself and finally decided that no shark would attempt to consume something that ugly.
So he walked to his couch (the bed had no mattress anymore, remember?) and eased himself on it, trying to get some sleep before getting up and going to check on Bobby and the Seductress 3000 (or what he thought as the Seductress, anyway)...
Robbie (formerly known as Bobby) glanced at the continuously bumping door with the corner of his eye. Evita was still out there, his only chance to avoid a painful cucumbering in the hands of Carmen Electra, who had proven herself nowhere close as caring as her character in Baywatch.
Using the corner of his other eye, he shot a pleading look at the aforementioned Baywatch babe. The Evil Unholy cucumber seemed to be smirking nastily at him, if vegetables could ever be considered animate things that could act humanly of course.
Carmen imitated the cucumber's imaginary smirk. "It's still your choice, Drake. So choose. This...." she said, juggling the cucumber with one hand, "...or that" she kept on, pointing with a smooth move of her head towards the steel door and the faint yelling coming from outside.
A hard choice, indeed.
This was some kind of punishment for him. He shouldn't have ever chose to follow Carmen to his cabin, thus betraying the trust that his beloved Evita held for him. Damn! That milkshake he had been drinking at that cafe must have been spiked. He would have never done that otherwise.
"Oh, stop blaming an innocent milkshake, Drake" his conscience yelled at him. "How can simple drinks containing milk, sugar and ice-cream convince you into hopping into bed with Carmen Electra!?! You must have been out of your mind, geez! You were simply thinking with the wrong head, mister! Now heads up! You must take responsibility of your actions! You brought yourself upon this and you must suffer the consequences...preferably NOT with close encounters with vegetables, though." it finally whispered to him.
That was it. Robbie would choose to yell to his love and let her see what a sinner he had become.
But as he collected his breath into his lungs, preparing himself to yell with all he had, he noticed that the yelling and bumping from the door had stopped.
He looked at the steel door to his cabin. Nobody could be heard outside anymore.
"Time's up, Drake" the satanic bimbo said with gleaming eyes.
She walked over to where her bag had been lying, taking a carrot and a banana out.
We're exploring all the potential of a small garden tonight, gentlemen" Carmen said with exaggerating enthusiasm. But as soon as she said those words, a voice was heard from the door again;
"WAIT! You heard something, Fluffy? Cause I damned heard something, that's for sure! Someone's in there! We have to get in there, NOW!"
Bobby looked up with hope, forgetting his previous predicament at once. Evita was out there and she intended to come in! Well, that wouldn't be so good, since she would find him in bed with another woman, but hell, it was something!
Loud bumping and cursing could be heard from outside, but Evita surely wasn't capable of breaking a steel door by her puny self.
"Wait! I have another idea! Karate-Bunny, door!!!"
"Oh, shit..." the sadistic cyborg tried to mouth, but with one single mighty kick from the bunny's lethal paws, the steel door's hinges broke and the steel door went flying though the cabin.
The door caught Carmen in its deadly orbit and ended up with force in the opposite wall, sandwiching the unsuspecting cyborg between two large shards of steel and shattering it into pieces.
And that was the end of the Dominatrix 669.
Evita and her bunny walked in the cabin. They didn't see the remains of Carmen's once glorious body, since they had all been kept between the steel door and the steel wall it was firmly attached to.
However, they did see Robbie tied on the bed and lying on his belly.
"Honey! Oh baby, what a surprise, I was looking for you all over the boat and you were setting this nice bondage surprise for me! Oh, how sweet of you!" the stupid git said while giggling happily. Her pet bunny just snarled with frustration and went off to munch on a cucumber that was mysteriously lying on the other side of the room.
Evita hopped on the bed besides the bonded Robbie, a happy and lustful look in her eyes. The question of how the hell could Robbie be tied on the bed all by himself obviously never crossed her mind.
The small, unimportant fact that there was no door on the cabin to keep the following minutes private also escaped her thick skull.
THE SAME NIGHT.
Sailor Marty Hughes was leaning against the huge wheel that controlled the whole massive ship everybody was onto. He knew that was a major responsibility, after all, the Captain himself had ordered him to look after the wheel and make sure that nobody comes inside the cubicle but the Captain himself.
Normally that responsibility should make him sleepless, but Marty wasn't functioning like a normal, conventional person.
When he was anxious he always got sleepy.
And such a great responsibility couldn't but make him REALLY anxious.
But all that time that his eyes were almost dozing off, he always reminded himself of the "sleepy guard" cliche someone can regularly see in every single flick. The terror at how conventionally he acted always brought his eyes back to full alert.
But now his eyes were alerted without having to remind himself of stupid movies with sleepy guards.
Because he saw something that really alerted him...on every meaning of the word.
A really gorgeous babe was knocking on the wheel's cubicle. Her blonde hair were prettily framing her face, and her large boobs were pressing against the impenetratable glass of the door.
"But Captain said that no one comes in" he thought to himself, trying to convince himself into following the orders he was clearly given.
"Stupid Marty! She doesn't want to check out the ship's controls, she's obviously here for you!" another part of himself scolded his earlier thoughts. "Let the babe in!"
As the babe smiled on him, he finally managed to realise that this was Pamela Anderson herself!
"Oh my god!" was the obvious thing to think about.
"See? She's a celebrity! Do you know of any celebrity who would gladly hand over fame and money to expose herself as a ship-conquering spy or something?" the naughty side of his brain seemed more reasonable now.
"Just a minute" he said to the hottie at the other side of the glass. He promptly opened up to the hot Baywatch babe.
Pamela Anderson stepped inside and her boobs took over almost all of the remaining space in the small cubicle.
"Oh, there's so little space in here..." Pamela told him as she giggled. Marty giggled in response.
"Let's make some space then." she added, smacking an unsuspecting Marty at the back of the head.
"Oooohhh....you're a rather heavy-handed girl..." he whispered before landing on the floor. Or whatever space of the floor remained.
The Seductress 3000 kicked the sailor's unconscious body outside the cubicle and locked herself in.
She looked around and began messing around with the ship controls...soon she would take over the wheel.
His demented groupies had finally being caught back in that great chase that had begun, the moment they bumped on a bypassing group of nuns that had popped up from a corridor crossing their way.
That fortunate surprise had allowed Wolverine to get far enough from them in order to get back to his room without being followed there.
With his breathing finally returning back to normal, Logan had the chance to look around his own cabin...not much had happened in there since the moment he had exited in, accompanied by an excited Jubilee, both of them very eager to destroy a blossoming love affair between Popsicle and that green-haired trump.
"Those were the good days", he thought to himself.
Too bad that those good days had passed just the previous day.
Logan began to unbuckle his belt, finally ensured that all the groupies were far from him and unaware of his cabin's whereabouts. But right then, a sensual voice tragically proved him wrong;
"Do you want me to help you out of these trousers?" Logan's enhanced hearing system ensured him that the voice belonged to Kate, the woman who probably started the whole groupie thing.
And there she was, lying on Wolverine's double bed, only clad in a set of purple underwear, complete with long silk stockings and all. Her pimple-infested thighs were spread on Logan's beloved mattress, as Kate stroked her feet provokingly.
All of Logan's blood surged into his skull at that horrifying sight.
Kate squirmed happily as she saw Wolverine glaring at her. She thought she had impressed him. And she had. But not the way she wanted to...
"Ho did you get here?" Logan asked in exasperation. Trying to get away from her again would prove pointless.
"Oh, come on, when a potent girl wants to get somewhere really bad, she eventually makes it. My friends from W.O.L.F. were the perfect distraction for me to bribe the receptionist and find out what the number of your room was, as you were running around the boat trying to get away from your own fans. But no need to feel guilty now, you can make up to that by satisfying your greatest fan EVER. Me."
Logan didn't need to rethink of that. The answer he gave to that question wasn't vocal, but it still helped him to make his point...
Snickt!
He began getting closer and closer to the icky woman lying on his own bed, perishing the thought that he was about to touch her in order to get rid of her...
"Uh oh..." Kate muttered between her clenching teeth. This time she had gone way too further than what she could handle...
Jack was currently speaking on his cell phone, using a language of currently unknown identity. He seemed to be talking to his boss, and the repetitive uses of a certain brief word combined with many nods of his side were inclining to that conclusion.
He soon hang the phone up, mumbling to himself about his stupid boss and how eager he was to go incognito in stupid masque parties when he was supposed to stick to the plan and take part in their mission for tonight.
Jack made sure that Jubilee would be harmless enough in her constrictive bonds as soon as she would wake up. He also checked his hi-tech watch to make sure that his Seductress 3000 (the one that looks like Pamela Anderson, remember?) was on her way to where he had sent her to.
"Splendid. Everything is going well, although we were taken aback by the unexpected tricks from Miss "I'm-cool-enough-to-date-a-bisexual" over there", he said mischievously to nobody in particular as he pointed at Jubilee's asleep form.
He then remembered what those "tricks" had cost him. Trying to contain himself from crying, he walked over to the ripped-apart and stomped-on remains of his beloved Playgirls, currently lying in the middle of the cabin's floor.
He traced around in the heap of ripped paper on the floor, trying to find any piece of paper that wasn't smaller than an inch at girth.
Nothing.
His head turned over towards the open closet, where the rest of the Playgirls had met their untimely death.
He slowly walked to the closet, fearful of what he would see once he got there. The sight was horrendous. The once glorious stash of Playgirls had resulted in a small heap of ashes.
Hope suddenly gleamed into his eyes as he remembered something. Pushing away the heap of Playgirl ashes, Jack eventually found the loose piece of wood in the floor under the ashes.
That was where he had hidden his favourite issue.
Taking the wooden plank out of the way, Jack revealed the secret opening where the Playgirl issue from April 1973 was resting.
The headlines on the cover were screaming: "Canuck Power: Why Canadians do it better"
James Logan, clad in nothing but a skimpy pair of red pants and a lumberjack hat was smirking to him playfully from the cover, as he held on a massive, edgy, tree-killing axe.
"Yeah, I knew you would make it", Jack said in a father-like voice to the magazine and tucked it in his jacket's large side-pocket protectively.
Logan had a last look at the huge hole on the wall of his cabin. It was fortunate that his cabin wasn't in an underwater level, or else the whole ship would be flooding with water right now...
He had ripped that big hole himself, using his lethal adamantium claws.
Kate, the utterly ugly chick that was chasing him around and had summoned that pack of W.O.L.F. groupies after him, had been thrown out of that hole, into the sea. Logan had been way too angered by that woman and couldn't help himself from doing what he did.
He then considered whether he should set his mattress on fire or not. After all, Kate had tainted it by laying her ugly form on it, so it had to go as well.
"What the hell" he had thought, "I already have a gaping hole on my cabin's wall, why not use it to get rid of another thing as well." So he also threw the mattress out of the hole, letting it join Kate in the ocean.
So now Kate was sailing in the endless waters, holding herself on the mattress to prevent herself from drowning. Logan had thought about the possible dangers caused by sharks and other sea critters towards Kate, but he had a small conference with himself and finally decided that no shark would attempt to consume something that ugly.
So he walked to his couch (the bed had no mattress anymore, remember?) and eased himself on it, trying to get some sleep before getting up and going to check on Bobby and the Seductress 3000 (or what he thought as the Seductress, anyway)...
Robbie (formerly known as Bobby) glanced at the continuously bumping door with the corner of his eye. Evita was still out there, his only chance to avoid a painful cucumbering in the hands of Carmen Electra, who had proven herself nowhere close as caring as her character in Baywatch.
Using the corner of his other eye, he shot a pleading look at the aforementioned Baywatch babe. The Evil Unholy cucumber seemed to be smirking nastily at him, if vegetables could ever be considered animate things that could act humanly of course.
Carmen imitated the cucumber's imaginary smirk. "It's still your choice, Drake. So choose. This...." she said, juggling the cucumber with one hand, "...or that" she kept on, pointing with a smooth move of her head towards the steel door and the faint yelling coming from outside.
A hard choice, indeed.
This was some kind of punishment for him. He shouldn't have ever chose to follow Carmen to his cabin, thus betraying the trust that his beloved Evita held for him. Damn! That milkshake he had been drinking at that cafe must have been spiked. He would have never done that otherwise.
"Oh, stop blaming an innocent milkshake, Drake" his conscience yelled at him. "How can simple drinks containing milk, sugar and ice-cream convince you into hopping into bed with Carmen Electra!?! You must have been out of your mind, geez! You were simply thinking with the wrong head, mister! Now heads up! You must take responsibility of your actions! You brought yourself upon this and you must suffer the consequences...preferably NOT with close encounters with vegetables, though." it finally whispered to him.
That was it. Robbie would choose to yell to his love and let her see what a sinner he had become.
But as he collected his breath into his lungs, preparing himself to yell with all he had, he noticed that the yelling and bumping from the door had stopped.
He looked at the steel door to his cabin. Nobody could be heard outside anymore.
"Time's up, Drake" the satanic bimbo said with gleaming eyes.
She walked over to where her bag had been lying, taking a carrot and a banana out.
We're exploring all the potential of a small garden tonight, gentlemen" Carmen said with exaggerating enthusiasm. But as soon as she said those words, a voice was heard from the door again;
"WAIT! You heard something, Fluffy? Cause I damned heard something, that's for sure! Someone's in there! We have to get in there, NOW!"
Bobby looked up with hope, forgetting his previous predicament at once. Evita was out there and she intended to come in! Well, that wouldn't be so good, since she would find him in bed with another woman, but hell, it was something!
Loud bumping and cursing could be heard from outside, but Evita surely wasn't capable of breaking a steel door by her puny self.
"Wait! I have another idea! Karate-Bunny, door!!!"
"Oh, shit..." the sadistic cyborg tried to mouth, but with one single mighty kick from the bunny's lethal paws, the steel door's hinges broke and the steel door went flying though the cabin.
The door caught Carmen in its deadly orbit and ended up with force in the opposite wall, sandwiching the unsuspecting cyborg between two large shards of steel and shattering it into pieces.
And that was the end of the Dominatrix 669.
Evita and her bunny walked in the cabin. They didn't see the remains of Carmen's once glorious body, since they had all been kept between the steel door and the steel wall it was firmly attached to.
However, they did see Robbie tied on the bed and lying on his belly.
"Honey! Oh baby, what a surprise, I was looking for you all over the boat and you were setting this nice bondage surprise for me! Oh, how sweet of you!" the stupid git said while giggling happily. Her pet bunny just snarled with frustration and went off to munch on a cucumber that was mysteriously lying on the other side of the room.
Evita hopped on the bed besides the bonded Robbie, a happy and lustful look in her eyes. The question of how the hell could Robbie be tied on the bed all by himself obviously never crossed her mind.
The small, unimportant fact that there was no door on the cabin to keep the following minutes private also escaped her thick skull.
THE SAME NIGHT.
Sailor Marty Hughes was leaning against the huge wheel that controlled the whole massive ship everybody was onto. He knew that was a major responsibility, after all, the Captain himself had ordered him to look after the wheel and make sure that nobody comes inside the cubicle but the Captain himself.
Normally that responsibility should make him sleepless, but Marty wasn't functioning like a normal, conventional person.
When he was anxious he always got sleepy.
And such a great responsibility couldn't but make him REALLY anxious.
But all that time that his eyes were almost dozing off, he always reminded himself of the "sleepy guard" cliche someone can regularly see in every single flick. The terror at how conventionally he acted always brought his eyes back to full alert.
But now his eyes were alerted without having to remind himself of stupid movies with sleepy guards.
Because he saw something that really alerted him...on every meaning of the word.
A really gorgeous babe was knocking on the wheel's cubicle. Her blonde hair were prettily framing her face, and her large boobs were pressing against the impenetratable glass of the door.
"But Captain said that no one comes in" he thought to himself, trying to convince himself into following the orders he was clearly given.
"Stupid Marty! She doesn't want to check out the ship's controls, she's obviously here for you!" another part of himself scolded his earlier thoughts. "Let the babe in!"
As the babe smiled on him, he finally managed to realise that this was Pamela Anderson herself!
"Oh my god!" was the obvious thing to think about.
"See? She's a celebrity! Do you know of any celebrity who would gladly hand over fame and money to expose herself as a ship-conquering spy or something?" the naughty side of his brain seemed more reasonable now.
"Just a minute" he said to the hottie at the other side of the glass. He promptly opened up to the hot Baywatch babe.
Pamela Anderson stepped inside and her boobs took over almost all of the remaining space in the small cubicle.
"Oh, there's so little space in here..." Pamela told him as she giggled. Marty giggled in response.
"Let's make some space then." she added, smacking an unsuspecting Marty at the back of the head.
"Oooohhh....you're a rather heavy-handed girl..." he whispered before landing on the floor. Or whatever space of the floor remained.
The Seductress 3000 kicked the sailor's unconscious body outside the cubicle and locked herself in.
She looked around and began messing around with the ship controls...soon she would take over the wheel.